Avengers' Galaxy
by BladeSoulPheonix
Summary: Tony Stark is not human, he's not even from Earth. A telepathic bomb has impaired his shape shifting abilities. How will Rhodey find him when Tony was captured in space and not in a desert? And why is Steve here? The story follows the first Iron man movie pretty closely in the first few chapters, but takes an entirely different turn in chapter three, where Steve joins us.
1. Captured

(I don't have a beta reader, so please point out any mistakes and I will happily fix them.)

Tony woke to all his nerves screaming in pain.

Gasping for breath only seemed to make it worse.

Opening his eyes did not help either, the light seared into his retinas.

Water, he thought, a drink might help.

Squinting against the light, Tony's eyes searched the room. His head was turned to look to the left. The room was rough looking. The walls likely concrete or some other archaic material.

His focus changed to the table beside him. A cup, opaque so unable to see if it contained anything. The bottle next to it had some clear liquid, completely colourless.

Water.

Panting in effort, Tony swung his arm towards it.

Missed.

Rolling onto his side Tony struggled to brace himself and reached with his right arm for the bottle. He managed to knock the cup and some other things off the table but didn't accomplish his goal.

Leaning forward made something at the back of his head tug, causing a surprising bolt of pain to arch down his entire spine.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Unable to really process the words, Tony pushed his body back. Still lacking coordination, shaking with fear and pain, Tony was reluctant to reach back but...

He needed to know.

Using his body as a brace for his right hand, he groped down the back of his head to the base of his skull.

What felt like a wire came out of bandages that he had somehow missed. The self adhesive bandages sealed around the follicles of his hair. If he ripped it off it'd take hair and flesh with it.

Panic seared through his system as he prodded the area under the bandage, feeling the undoubtedly metal object now attached to him.

His vision began to tunnel as his breathing escalated past recommended levels.

Don't pass out, he ordered himself.

"What have you done to me?" the question escaped him without real thought on his part.

"I saved your life," the man from before answered him. "When they pulled you in, your body was in between shapes and seizing. The explosion you managed to live through damaged your brain. Those telepathic bombs have quite a range, they even pierce through most sealed chambers when close enough. I've seen your reaction to them before."

The man was slim, his head was balding, his words were accented but well pronounced. His clothes were refined but looked well worn, even dirty.

He turned and continued speaking, his tone calm even though he looked tense, "Injuries in the brain aren't something that can be repaired, but I have managed to make a—patch, for lack of a better word. It stimulates your brain in a way that keeps its impulses for shape shifting stable. It's powered by the battery behind you. You'll need to adjust it to change shape, but you're alive. It could easily be worse."

Tony met the man's steady brown eyes as he stood over him. Could easily be worse, his mind repeated.

"The other people I have seen with this brain injury die within days of seizures as their minds force them to change shape over and over. They're aware enough to feel it, but unable to voice anything. What I have given you is time. Instead of dying in days, you likely have weeks," the man informed him.

"Weeks," Tony repeated, feeling stupid. He slowly eased himself up into a seated position, careful not to stress the line connecting him to the battery.

"Yes, weeks," the man told him.

"How-?"

His question was interrupted by a loud bang on the door outside, followed by shouting.

"Quickly, do as I do," ordered the man. His tension was far more visible now as he straightened from where he had been leaned over Tony.

Belatedly noting that he had barely had the cognitive ability to notice the other man's actions, Tony's eyes focused on the metal doors.

Obviously sliding doors, likely automated.

"Stand up, stand up!" commanded the stranger.

His urgency finally registered as the words from another language sound over the speakers into the room they are in.

Moving unsteadily to his feet, Tony was careful to keep the cord connected to his head from pulling by edging around the cot he had been laying on.

"Hands on your head! Like me! Do it!" the man said urgently before speaking in what seems to be the same language as the person speaking over the sound system in the room.

Tony raised his arms after the man reinforced his statement by trying to lift Tony's right arm.

The whole situation had Tony numb. There was too much to process.

Perhaps that, and the fact that the telepathic bomb had been his invention, explained his reaction to their demands.

"No," he answered.

No, he would not build the people waving his company's weapons in his face a weapon of mass destruction. No, he would not give them more ammunition to blow up the soldiers his weapons should be protecting.

No, he would not be responsible for more innocents' deaths.

Even when they started the torture, he didn't regret that one word.

No.

He would escape.

He won't let others be hurt because of him.


	2. Escape Plan

After the numbness that Tony had been experiencing wore off, he started asking questions. Learning Yinsen's name had come as a revelation.

"We have actually met before, at a conference," Yinsen had told him.

"I don't remember."

"Yes, well... If I had been that drunk, I wouldn't have been able to stand, let alone give a speech on...integrated circuits. I'm not surprised you don't remember me," he had replied.

Tony resolved not to let drugs of any kind fog his mind enough that he forgot someone so easily.

"Who are these people anyway?" he had to know.

"They call themselves the Ten Rings and they are your loyal customers. I speak many different languages, and even that is not enough for this group. They're compromised of so many different species that I'm often surprised by what walks through that door," Yinsen told him, waving his had towards the metal door keeping them imprisoned. "Some of their languages seem to be beyond my abilities to pronounce."

"They really need a translator AI," Tony replied absently.

"The good ones are expensive, they seem to be more focused on weapons," Yinsen answered.

"Or, they might be smart enough to know I could manipulate such a program," Tony returned quietly.

The group monitored the room they were in, but Tony had inspected the cameras and equipment. While they could hear what was going on to some extent, the microphones weren't sensitive enough to pick up quiet words.

"Maybe, though this group seems to operate with brute force, not intelligence," Yinsen added at the same volume.

That begged the question though, how had they ended up with him?

"I'm sure they're looking for you Mr Stark, but they will never find you. The universe is a very big place and we are well hidden," Yinsen told him while coming to sit next to him. "Groups like these, people killing others and destroying homes, that is your legacy, Mr Stark. Your life's work, is in the hands of those murderers. Is this how you want it to end? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it?"

"Even if I do something, they could kill me, or you. Whether or not I do, I'm probably dead in few weeks anyway," Tony answered, feeling the weight of his actions over the years.

"Then these weeks are a very important time for you, aren't they?" Yinsen asked.

With that, Tony found the rest of his resolve. Even if he died, he'd make it count.

The terms of their agreement had stated that Tony needed to see that they could provide the supplies necessary to build their bomb. It had been his latest invention.

As he stumbled through the hallways with a blindfold, he was unable to prevent himself picturing its demonstration.

After an invigorating speech, done by himself, the projectile had been launched from one of the smaller space cruisers. It had looked small, especially as it approached the large asteroid and several of its fellows. Pieces had sectioned off at its approach, when they made contact the resulting explosion had even rocked the station they had been standing on. All that had been left of any of the asteroids had been dust, including the one the size of their battle cruisers.

Ships as large as their Space Hawks, containing thousands of soldiers, would be reduced to chunks of metal.

It was the stuff of nightmares.

Tony was jerked from his thoughts by the blindfold being peeled from his eyes. His mental count of steps and added directions abruptly stopped as well.

Squinting against the bright lights, Tony took in just how many Stark company products they had. The entire bunker was filled with ammunition, guns and explosives. The Stark name was painted on the side of every crate.

Pulling his eyes away from that horror as the man in front of them preened in pride, Tony scanned for the exit. It was obvious due to its size and the design of the door. The most important part of any escape was knowing where to go to get out.

Now they knew.

Yinsen and Tony shared a glance before Yinsen translated for him, "As you can see, we have everything you need to construct the Jericho. Build us one, and we will set you free."

Nodding and smiling as if he believed them, Tony answered, "No, they won't."

"They won't," Yinsen agreed, also smiling.

These men were far too predictable.

Shortly after Tony had given them his demands the room he and Yinsen shared accommodation in was a hive of activity. With Yinsen translating his orders, Tony was relatively successful in directing people how to set up his shop. At least the lighting wasn't poor. While the cement walling meant that the only easy way out was the door, at least it prevented them from installing more cameras to get clear views if Tony and Yinsen were to reposition things on their own.

With consenting to build a bomb came other "luxuries." Instead of gruel that they could barely tolerate they were given actual food, and a few board games.

The computers given to them were tolerable, had no access to wireless interstellarnet, and barely could run the programs he needed to code. It was a crime against technology. Tony really missed JARVIS.

And good coffee.

"Where are we?" Tony asked as he started to pull apart a bomb. They were currently without company, but that didn't mean they weren't being watched.

"From what I have seen, I believe we are on one of the out lying planets in our patrol protected galaxy. Far enough out to have no real protection at all, but close enough that the Allegiance Protectorate likes to say they have sovereignty," answered Yinsen with his usual ill humour.

Tony understood that the man hated his guts, had only helped him out of morals, but hearing the constant negativity was wearing. Not that Tony was in a much better mood. Still, interaction helped him think.

Maybe Yinsen would forgive some of his sins when they escaped, he could hope. It was all he had right now.

"You know, we might be more productive if you included me in the planning process," Yinsen told Tony as he pulled the circuitry out of the bomb's casing.

Grunting in agreement to his words, Tony continued working.

After pulling out a small piece from the larger part, he tossed the bigger piece away saying, "Don't need this."

Holding the smaller part up to the light of the lamp he'd had placed on the desk, Tony explained, "This is .15 grams of palladium. We need at least 1.6 so why don't you go break down the other eleven."

Frowning as he listened, Yinsen moved away when he finished speaking.

At least while he was busy he wouldn't be making jabs at Tony.

Working on plans for a solution to his electrical problem was first on his list of things to accomplish. It would be hard to escape if he was barely mobile.


	3. Taking Action

After all the palladium had been gathered, Tony melted it down to put in the mould. Knowing that carrying a battery around to keep from having muscle spasms didn't make for the most steady hands, Tony asked for Yinsen's help pouring the liquid metal.

"Careful, careful. We only have one shot at this," Tony told Yinsen nervously as he followed the man to the workbench.

Yinsen took slow steps as he held the tongs. "Don't worry, I have steady hands. Why do you think you're still alive?"

It wasn't reassuring to think of anyone with a knife anywhere near the back of his skull, especially when he had been helpless.

All the same, he was upright now, not in a coffin.

There were many things he could have said as Yinsen poured the palladium into the mould he had made, but no words came. Thanking him didn't seem to have much of a point, the thanks Yinsen seemed to want was rescue. He didn't want words, and Tony wasn't good with pleasantries anyway. Why start now when he'd likely be dead soon?

If he survived this, Tony resolved to eat a nice juicy burger.

Time seemed irrelevant as Tony worked. The hours always blended together when his mind and body were occupied with calculating and creating. When the device was finally finished, sitting glowing on the work bench before him, Tony finally felt the passage of time like a weight on his body.

"Woah," breathed Yinsen, leaning in close to the blue light. "That does not look like a Jericho missile."

"That's because it's a miniaturized arch reactor," Tony answered quietly. "We've got a big one powering one of my factories at home. Should keep my brain waves stabilized." A part of him felt like he should be making a joke with that statement, something about that being a first.

"What could it generate?"

"If my math is right, and it always is," Tony added in case the man needed reminding that wasn't one of his failings, "three gigajoules per second."

"That could keep you going for fifteen lifetimes," Yinsen said.

"Yeah, or something big for fifteen minutes," Tony answered.

Deciding to let the man in on his plans, he would need more help after all, Tony grabbed his blueprints and stood. Walking over to the plexiglass table with the light under it, he dropped the blue prints onto it.

"This is our ticket out of here," Tony told him.

"What is it?"

"Flatten them out," Tony replied.

He did it himself and the light from behind the table glowed through the pages, revealing the designs for his armour. The machine was shaped like a wolf, meaning he would have to shape shift to get into it. That was why when he'd designed the arch reactor he'd also designed and built a set of controls to adjust the output of the device embedded in his skull so that he could change shape.

"Impressive."

################

The explosion earlier had disturbed Steve's sleep. It had been far enough away that he hadn't felt the need to rush off immediately to see what he could do to help, though it had been a near thing. Instead, he found himself down in the livingroom of his duplex.

For the first ten minutes he had paced. Being special forces meant that he was trained enough to recognize that his 'help' would likely interfere with the people on duty. Besides that, he was far enough away that without a vehicle he'd likely arrive as everyone else would be finished. The explosion had also seemed to come from the part of the city where there was no housing. That didn't mean civilians hadn't gotten hurt, but there would be few of them, if any at all.

Inaction still bothered him, but there wasn't much he could do.

Dropping himself onto his couch, Steve stared out his window broodingly.

Perhaps if he had been on active duty he wouldn't feel rubbed raw by his inability to go out there and help.

Since self-delusion wasn't something he could be accused off, Steve gave his head a shake at the thought. Not doing something to help at any point when he felt he could be of some use had always bothered him. Whether or not he was on a mission made no difference. He hadn't been on many missions, but action really didn't change anything about him. Unlike...

Had that been a whimper?

Steve found himself on his feet and at his open window before he really thought about it. He peered out through the screen into the alley between his building and the next.

Perhaps the creature had been hurt in that explosion earlier and run. Seeing a large dark shape moving out there, Steve found himself walking to his back door. He hesitated momentarily, looking at the bottle of pepper spray Bucky had bought him years ago, then eased open the door.

As he had suspected, the creature had been heading towards the small back lot behind his building, he could see movement.

Another sound of pain made Steve move outside. His eyes finally adjusted enough to the light that he could see that the creature looked canine, though not the familiar shape of any dog he knew. The creature was as big in the torso as he was, so it could easily be threat to him even while injured.

It was best to assume that it was an intelligent creature until proven otherwise, the galaxy had some strange species out there.

He slowly moved closer, calling softly, "Hey there, are you alright?"

Stiffening, the canine turned towards him, drawing his attention to the glowing object around its neck. The light from it was enough to see the creature bare its teeth at him.

"Hey now," Steve said soothingly, holding up his hands, "I'm not here to harm you. You look like you could use some help."

The only response from the creature was to awkwardly shift more towards him, back to the wall. Judging by the way the hair lay and its difficulty moving, the splotches on its fur were likely blood. Steve also caught the smell of burned fur.

It seemed like his guess of where it came from was likely right.

"You look like you could use some kindness big one," Steve told it calmly, slowly moving forward again. "Will you let me assist you?"

A grumbling sound emerged from the beast's throat, then it let out a huge sigh.

Steve was watching its eyes as they flickered closed, then the canine collapsed.

Rushing forward, Steve hesitated before placing his hands on its body. The creature radiated heat and its fur was very soft. A gash ran along its ribs and a small chunk of skin was loose on its left hind leg. There were other small cuts and abrasions, but nothing as majour. Checking the bones, Steve couldn't find any that were obviously broken, but he was unable to tell if there were other injuries.

What truly worried him is the thing around the creature's neck seemed to be attached to it. The steady blue glow was eerie to him when he took into account that a part of it was adhered to the base of its skull.

"I should take you in to a care center," Steve muttered to himself. He knew first aid, but he didn't have any medical equipment to do a proper examination. That device really was worrying.

' _No, don't_.'

The words floated into his mind in a way that Steve knew meant telepathy. "I thought you were unconscious, what am I to do with you then?"

Steve sat back on his heels as he waited for a response. When none came he sighed.

"Well, I can't leave you here..."


	4. Helping

Tony woke to the heavenly smell of coffee.

' _Coffee_ ,' the word echoed out of his mind into the room. Whimpering more because of the deliciousness being out of his reach than the pain screeching through his nerves, Tony rolled onto his side. Blinking his blurry eyes, he tried to bring the room around him into focus.

"You're awake then," said a voice from behind him.

His only response to that was a groan and repeat, ' _Coffee._ ' He hoped it was suitably pathetic enough that his demands for the glorious drink would be met.

Even though he was preoccupied with trying to get coffee, he was using his senses to pick up as much as possible.

Small room, no real personality to it. A view screen and one family picture. The scent of one male that seemed to have been lingering around where he was laying. There was the smell of medications and under it, his own blood.

"I'm not certain coffee is a good idea in your condition," came his reply.

The reality of his situation came crashing down on him as if those words were a trigger. His paws scrambled against the faux leather under him as he tried to stand. Another whimper escaped him without his okaying it.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, easy," the male voice tried to soothe. "You're going to reopen the wound on your leg."

Tony stopped struggling and forced himself to relax. Panting and shivering slightly, he reminded himself that he wasn't a prisoner anymore. He wasn't trapped. He had escaped.

The cost though...

Yinsen was dead, although that seemed to be his goal all along. The man had good reason for his hatred of all things Stark. If someone had been responsible for his mother's death, even indirectly, he had his doubts whether he would have saved their life as Yinsen had saved his.

The Ten Rings had used Stark weapons to kill Yinsen's family.

Turning his head, Tony looked at the muscular blond man beside him. His mind focused on the man to escape his thoughts.

Really, did the man love his muscles or was he oblivious to just how tight that shirt was? If he flexed the fabric would probably tear.

Blue eyes, military-like hair style. The guy oozed helpfulness and 'good guy' the same way Tony could ooze charm. It seemed entirely unconscious though.

"Do you have a name I can call you?" he asked.

' _Tony_ ,' he replied, holding back the Stark at the last moment.

It had come naturally to say Stark with arrogant pride, but guilt had eaten away at that. Besides, with his luck the guy would have a vendetta against the Starks as well. If that happened he could see himself ending up a bloody smear on the floor.

He was injured and the muscle bound, body builder was not.

"Steve, Steve Rodgers," Steve answered with a nod of his head. He eased down to sit on the table next to the couch, his arms folded across his chest. "What brought you into this part of the galaxy Tony?"

Tony grunted and shifted his body on the couch to face Steve better. He decided the best way out of the situation was to appeal to the man's sympathies. Being on his good side couldn't be bad.

' _I'm certainly not here by choice, quaint as your piece of the star systems might be_ ,' he replied.

The guy really needed a bigger couch. Tony barely fit on it, and it wasn't comfortable.

"You didn't really answer the question."

' _I don't believe I did, though it wasn't really on purpose_.' He ran a paw down his muzzle before meeting Steve's eyes. ' _Where are we anyway?_ '

Steve let his question go as he answered Tony's, "Carnara, a mid-sized planet used mostly for farming. We're about as far out as you can get without going past the patrol borders."

' _Not quite past the reaches of civilization_ ,' Tony commented slowly.

His mind was working on how best to get aid. He needed to get far away from the Ten Rings in order to regroup. Then there was his company to deal with...

"Not quite," Steve answered. "Will I be arrested for helping you?" his question was tinged with accusation that Tony couldn't help responding to.

Laying his ears back, he gave Steve an offended look, then replied, ' _I was running away from the out-laws buddy. I have enough money that illegal activity is completely unnecessary. I'm worth more than the yearly net income of this planet's population combined_.'

"Why avoid care centers then? You told me not to take you to one before you passed out in the alleyway."

' _Care centers are boring and not secure enough. I was kidnapped while escorted by military personnel. If people with guns couldn't protect me, I'm not entrusting my safety with people who've trained with the oh so deadly weapon of knives. I'd rather take my chances with the first charitable person I come across. Which, thank you, by the way. I really needed help there,_ ' Tony told him earnestly.

The man could have left him to bleed on the street, or taken the arch reactor from around his neck. So far he had truly been kind with no gain on his part, and that really was rare for Tony.

Talk of care centers made Tony feel edgy. Who knows what a doctor would make of the device in his skull. If he passed out and someone tried to remove it, not knowing it helped keep him alive...

"You're welcome," Steve responded. "Should we be expecting company? You were unconscious for hours."

###################

Tony's brown eyes met his and Steve was struck again by the intelligence behind them. He couldn't regret helping the wolf who occupied the full length of his couch, even if he was being evasive.

The gray wolf eased his front paws onto the ground as he spoke, ' _If I don't want to get caught, I had better get going. I need to be found by the right people._ '

"Where will you go?" Steve asked in concern. The guy really wasn't in the best shape. Steve had patched him up, but he needed time to heal properly.

' _I'm not sure_ ,' Tony answered him.

"How will you gain contact with your friends?"

' _I don't know_ ,' the wolf replied, starting to sound irritated.

"I'm coming with you," stated Steve. He wasn't doing any good where he was anyway. Helping Tony would occupy him for a while and be useful. Besides, there seemed to be something very wrong with Tony's situation. He was almost tempted to report it but then he'd no longer be able to do anything for Tony.

' _What?_ ' Tony asked incredulously.

Was help really that much of a foreign concept to Tony?

"I'll help you find your friends, and evade anyone meaning you harm," Steve told him. The fact that the wolf had paused with his front paws braced on the floor while the rest of him was still on the couch really expressed his surprise more than anything else could have.

Tony came out of it with a shake of his head, simply saying, ' _No_.' He looked away from Steve and pulled himself off the couch, as if the matter was closed.

Steve raised his eyebrows. "How do you plan on keeping me from following you?"

Ceasing all motion again, Tony sighed. ' _Why do you want to help me_? _What do you gain from this_?'

"I need to gain something from helping someone?" Steve asked. The way this creature thought was baffling. Hadn't he heard of good deeds?

' _Yes, everyone does_ ,' answered tiredly, making his way to the door. ' _I don't have anything to give you. If you help me you might end up dead. Stay here and let me out so I can get out of your hair_.'

Rather than convincing him to stay home, Tony's words only firmed his resolve to help.

"Wait there," Steve ordered, then headed out of the room.


	5. Tag Along

Tony stared at the closed door in front of him and sighed.

Really, was it too much to ask for an automated door? Or one with a button? Did Steve even live in this century or was he still grinding all his coffee beans by hand?

Shuddering, Tony pushed the thought away, Steve couldn't be that much of a barbarian.

His ears flicked back as he heard Steve approaching, but he stubbornly kept facing the door. He hadn't agreed to Steve coming along and this was the best way of showing his mutiny.

Pausing at the thought, Tony wondered at his own mental wording. Piecing together his observations, Tony realized the man held himself like he was military. Intrigued by that, Tony found himself facing Steve instead of continuing his petulant-five-year-old act.

Steve was in what appeared to be the kitchen, putting things in a bag.

' _What are you doing?_ ' Tony asked him. For a soldier, he really made very little sense, which had Tony more interested than he cared to admit.

"Making sure we're prepared," Steve answered as he zipped closed the bag. After shouldering it, he headed back towards the door Tony was still standing next to. "If we're facing people who would kidnap someone worth as much money as you've said you are, it's best that at least one of us is ready for what that could mean."

He was now wearing an outfit in dark gray. It certainly fit the bill of military in that it looked like a uniform, with a camouflage pattern and lots of places to store weapons and deadly things. He even seemed to have some kind of communication device in his ear, though Tony wasn't sure who he would be...

"Tony?" Steve questioned, snapping Tony back to the present. His erratic train of thought could be troublesome.

' _Yes, dear?_ ' It seemed appropriate to call him that, he was insisting on following Tony around and making him do things he didn't want to, like wait.

Sighing, Steve said, probably for the second time. "Where will we be going?"

' _To get coffee,_ ' Tony answered promptly, deciding he was in the mood to be difficult.

Steve gave him an exasperated look.

Before he could finish opening his mouth to speak, Tony interrupted, ' _I need inconspicuous access to the interstellarnet, the best place to get that is a cafe designed for that purpose. Do you know one where my being furry won't gather attention?_ '

His stance shifting minutely, Steve looked thoughtful. "There is one we could use. It's quite some distance from here though." He eyed his bag. "And I'll need different gear so _I_ don't stick out. I'll be back momentarily."

With that, Steve left the room again.

Tony turned back to the door, wondering if this would be a common occurrence. He never realized just how much he would miss opposable thumbs.

Clint eased himself slowly into a slightly different stance, careful to make the motion as smooth as possible so no one would catch the movement. Not very many people would look up to where he was perched anyway, but it was better to not tempt fate.

Especially when you were spying.

It was a relatively boring job really. It was so far below his normal pay grade that Clint had originally been insulted. Babysitting a special ops officer slash science experiment put on leave after an operation gone wrong? Pass.

But then he read more into the file and decided the potential the situation had to explode was enough to hold his interest, at least for a month or two.

It finally seemed like his patience the past few weeks were paying off.

When the explosion had gone off earlier he had watched Steve Rogers' current lodging like a hawk. He honestly expected the man to go rushing off to play hero. The guy had a complex, he couldn't seem to stand by in any situation where he could be useful.

Thief stole someone's wallet? There Steve was chasing him down.

Car crashed into a pole? Steve was there to make sure the driver and all stander's-by were alright.

Kid skinned his knee? Rogers had a band-aid in hand and kind words to make the little one smile.

Clint had pinched himself at the last one to make sure it was real.

Regardless, the guy had somehow restrained himself and somehow wound up saving the day for someone anyway.

It hadn't been hard to spot the wounded creature making its way to the place Rogers stayed. As it wasn't a threat Clint made no move to report it. There was no one around and Steve was a big boy with a smokin' bod to go with it. Calling in a limping creature to protect him would have been an insult.

Harder than not reporting it to his superiors was watching it painfully move around and know he couldn't do anything to help without jeopardizing his job. These were the times when Clint found it more difficult to do his duty.

When Rogers made his way out to help it he had been relieved. Rogers had been trained in enough medicine to get by with non-fatal injuries, which was all the creature seemed to be sporting.

Steve had taken the creature back inside with him, confirming that it hadn't been injured enough to warrant Clint's continued worrying. If Rogers had thought it needed to be in a care center, nothing could have held him back from it. The man took stubborn to all new levels.

Settling in to wait, Clint let his eyes wander. There was a good chance that the creature had nothing to do with the explosion earlier, but the circumstances had him restless.

All activity for this time in the morning was ordinary.

Movement had his focus shifting back to Rogers' back door. The dim glow of the rising sun was enough that Clint became sure that the creature Rogers had rescued was a dog. Or a wolf, Clint was no biologist.

The question was, why was Rogers following it?

Well, it was his job to follow, satisfying his curiosity was just a bonus.

With little thought Clint swung down off the ledge he had been using to observe the scene and onto a fire escape. A small jump had him onto the top of the shorter building next to him. Scanning where they seemed to be headed, Clint guessed their trajectory and set off at a sprint to he could make a leap for the next roof.

Pursuing a target was the more entertaining part of watching.


End file.
